Choose for Happiness
by Advocaat
Summary: While everyone else was busy living the lives they'd always dreamed of, somehow he had looped back around to fill the same tired role that he had in the old world; endless hours of researching and planning and building to keep his mind off realities that might destroy him if he let them take hold.
1. P: Best to Let Dead Gods Lie

Oooh, I've done it now. Despite telling myself not to time and again, I've gone and begun writing a chaptered Hoperai fic. This is set after the events of Lightning Returns: Final Fantasy XIII and contains spoilers for the game as well as content from the novel.

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><p>Choose for Happiness<p>

_To the new world, filled with promises. _

Prologue: Best to let dead gods lie.

Inside a small, cold shack deep in the mountains, next to a single, cracked window dyed rose with fresh blood, Hope smiled.

His smile was pleasant, even as his gut churned. The happy future he'd wished for with all his heart and soul was being snatched away from him once again right before his eyes. It was almost funny. He sort of wanted to laugh, actually. He wished he could.

The large, smartly dressed man standing before him frowned at his expression. "I wonder if you understand the situation you're in, Mr. Estheim," he stated coolly, adjusting his dark tinted glasses with a finger.

Hope's eyes flicked around the inside of the cabin, first to the frosty, blood smattered window, then to the moth-eaten carpet where two men lay dead, their broken bodies bleeding through the material to drip down into the cracks between the ancient floorboards, and finally to the remaining two men who stood guard at the door, their impassive faces trained strictly ahead, not displaying even the faintest interest in the scene before them.

His gaze returned to the man in front of him. "What you want isn't something that I can give you," he said firmly.

The dim light of the cabin reflected briefly off the man's glasses as he shifted his neck slightly. "That would be unfortunate news for us, were it the truth."

Hope's gaze didn't waver, even as the shaded man stepped forward and knelt before him so that they were closer to eye-level. He could see his own breath puff out across the floor from where his chin dug into the stiff, old rug and it momentarily clouded his view of the man's shaded face. The sharp knee keeping his body trapped against the floor pushed down harder at the man's change in proximity.

"However," he continued, "our organization has already confirmed your ability to complete the task I've just finished explaining to you."

This time Hope really did chuckle. Was this person out of his mind? There were limits to foolishness.

The man's expression hardened at his laughter, and Hope awarded him with his most charming smile as he brazenly stated, "Go to hell."

Pain flashed through Hope's skull as the man kicked him hard in the jaw with a polished, black shoe. "Go ahead and administer the drug," Shades ordered the person keeping Hope incapacitated. "I don't want to deal with him right now, and I'd rather not lose any more men."

There was an affirmative noise from the man on top of him, and then Hope felt a needle prick the inside of his elbow. _No!_ He violently jerked his body, trying to dislodge his captor. The shaded man pulled a sleek black pistol from inside his suit jacket and trained it on Hope's face. "Don't struggle or I'll shoot."

Hope laughed humorlessly and continued to thrash. There was no way the guy would kill him. No, Hope was far too important to their plans. The two men guarding the door rushed over just as he managed to throw his captor off, drawing guns of their own. _So boring. The weapons of this world are so boring,_ Hope thought as he grabbed the man who'd been holding him by the front of his shirt and threw him into the shaded man.

A shot rang out as the impact of the collision caused the shaded man's finger to tighten on the trigger. Hope utilized the ensuing confusion to tackle one of the guards and take his gun, swiftly repositioning it in his grip and firing a bullet cleanly into the guard's skull. The guard dropped like a sack of meat and Hope raced for the door without sparing a second look at the man he'd just killed.

There was another shot and Hope felt a bullet glance off his collarbone. He staggered but didn't fall. If he fell now, he'd be finished. With startling precision, he swiveled around and fired at the second guard. Blood splattered across the floor and the cracked window shattered as the bullet's trajectory took it through the man's throat and out into the frozen night. That made four men now whom Hope had stolen lives from this night. So much for a fresh start.

Hope yanked the door to the shack open and darted out into the woods, immediately thankful for the cover of the trees as more shots rang out behind him. Soon, he would be free. Soon. He just had to shake the rest of that man's goons, and then everything would be okay. He could work things out from there.

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><p>Hope didn't know how long he'd run. He didn't stop until he'd long since ceased hearing sounds of pursuit, and he thanked his long legs and regular exercise routine for that. He staggered over to a tree, breathing hard, and leaned his uninjured shoulder against it. He felt his eyes droop and let out a curse. Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out a filled syringe and removed the cap. Carefully, he lowered the tip to his arm and injected the clear fluid into his bloodstream. Thank God for foresight, he thought as he tossed the now empty syringe away. That shot would counteract the tranquilizer those creeps had given him. <em>On second thought, let's not thank God, <em>he amended._ He's the one who got me into this mess._ _Again_.

Hope slid to the ground, panting. He clutched his shoulder and hissed as pain zinged down his left arm. At least it wasn't his dominant arm—thank the cosmos for small blessings. Still, he needed to get the wound treated and he had absolutely no idea how he was going to do that. He was stuck out in the mountains in the dead of winter with no clue how to get to the nearest town, much less home, and he was positive those men hadn't given up their search for him. No, not raving zealots like them.

He looked up at the dark sky and smiled wryly. "Bhunivelze..." he muttered, addressing the heavens.

If only he could forget that name. If only he could be done with gods and plots. If only he could just live in peace. "I can't shake you, can I? I'll be fighting you for the rest of my life."

There was no reply, and Hope was almost disappointed.

He closed his eyes, and behind his eyelids an image formed. He saw Lightning in all her beautiful ferocity and his ears rang with her righteous cry. _In the new world, we won't need God!_

_No,_ he agreed, wrapping his arms around himself to conserve heat. _But that won't stop people from wanting one._

Shivering, he picked himself up and continued his trek in the direction his internal navigation sense told him that civilization was most likely to lie.

oO0Oo

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><p>Short, but it's a just a prologue. I expect this story to be around five chapters long, but we'll see how that goes. Stories have a nasty habit of doing what they want.<p>

Let me know what you think, and I'll see you in the next chapter!


	2. 1: Run for Home

..

Choose for Happiness

_You said we would be together._

Chapter 1: Run for home.

Lightning groaned and lowered her forehead to the counter beside a half filled tumbler. Serah had come down the stairs earlier to fetch a glass of water and, upon discovering her sister still awake and seated at the island in her kitchen staring off into space, the younger Farron had sympathetically poured her a drink. It had been over twenty-four hours now since they had learned that Hope was missing, and another twenty-four before that since anyone had seen him last. Lightning hadn't been overly concerned in the beginning, but after the second day of hearing that he hadn't shown up for work, that had changed. Hope was fastidious in his work ethic. One unexplained absence was already highly unusual, but two was downright unheard of. Furthermore, ever since everyone had been reunited in the new world, Hope had never gone a day without contacting one of them, particularly her.

Lighting had tried to search for clues, but so far her search had come up dry. Hope wasn't at home and there were no signs of foul play in his apartment. She had called his parents, but they had been just as clueless. Apparently they hadn't heard from him since the week before. Nobody at his work had any answers either. They were all in a state of panic at his disappearance, as none of their projects could proceed without him. It was unlike Hope to go off on his own without telling anyone, and he surely wouldn't have left his assistants at the lab on their own with no warning, so Lightning could only conclude that either he'd gotten into some kind of accident somewhere, or...

_Or he's been kidnapped,_ she thought. But who on earth would want to kidnap Hope? Sure, he was a great researcher with a lot of influence in the scientific community, but it wasn't like he was in a position of power the way he'd been in the old world. _...Yet,_ she tacked on mentally. What could anyone hope to gain from kidnapping a scientist?

Try as she might, she couldn't figure it out. Without a motive, she had nothing to go on. No clues to follow. It was beyond frustrating. Snow, Sazh, and Noel had joined her in the search, but their luck had been no better than hers.

Another thing about Hope's disappearance was troubling Lightning as well, and that was his behavior up until his vanishing. For the past couple months, Hope had been acting somewhat peculiar, she'd thought. He seemed more stressed and he'd been acting less open with her. Well, all of them, really. He'd been spending less time with them and more time either at work or at home with his projects. The others chalked it up to his workaholic nature, but Lightning had the oddest feeling that he was avoiding her. It wasn't that they'd had a fight or that anything in particular had happened which might cause him to distance himself from her—that she knew of—but she could feel a tension in the air between them that had never existed before.

Lightning thought back to the last time she'd seen Hope. She had gone to his work after getting off duty for the day—she recalled it had been a particularly grating patrol, made worse by the presence of a male deputy she wasn't immensely fond of. She'd thought of pulling Hope from his research for a couple hours to have dinner together, but when she'd arrived at the lab, one of his assistants, a small-ish, brunette girl named Melan, informed her that Hope was going out to eat with his team that evening. Feeling somewhat disappointed, Lightning had left without bothering to inform Hope of her visit, however, she was able to confirm his presence there at that time, as she'd peeked through the small viewing window into the room where he'd been working.

That had been the night before the first day that he'd failed to show for work. Based on that, Lightning determined that the most probable window for his disappearance fell from when he'd left work that night to just before he was scheduled to return to work the next day. Of course she'd immediately gone and questioned his team after she learned of his vanishing. They all claimed that he'd been with them until around eleven P.M. that evening but that was the last anyone had seen of him.

Lightning sighed and turned her head so that her cheek now lay against the smooth surface of the countertop. Somehow, she just couldn't shake the feeling that this was her fault. If she'd just been more attentive, more active, more..._something_, Hope wouldn't be MIA right now. She felt as though she'd failed him as a partner. Again.

She sighed and picked her head up. _Get a grip, Farron. There isn't even any proof that something bad has happened to him. _But if there was, that would at least give her a trail to follow. Right now she had nothing, and that's what really bothered her. _Hope, where on earth did you go?_

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><p><em>Hope's body ached. Every step Lightning took jostled him uncomfortably, but he wasn't about to complain. He much preferred this over being left as a meal for the hungry gorgonopsids roaming the plains. Moreover<em>_,__ he didn't want to be any more of a burden for the tired soldier whose back he was currently weighing against. If there was one thing Hope hated, it was being a burden __to__ Lightning. He hated it more than his own pain. If only he were stronger... His promise to protect her meant nothing if he still had to rely on her to this extent. _

"_Hang in there, Hope," Lightning called softly back to him. "We'll be able to rest soon. I'll fix you up after that."_

_Hope wanted to argue; to tell her not to worry about him and just focus on regaining her strength. She was in no condition to be casting any cure spells right now, and she wouldn't be until she'd had several hours' solid rest. However, all he could muster was a nod that she may or may not have been able to feel. _

_It was around twenty minutes later that the two of them chanced upon an uninhabited cave, and Lightning just made it inside before collapsing onto the cold cavern floor. Hope caught sight of her bloodied back and winced guiltily.__"I'm sorry...__I bled all over your uniform," he apologized. _

_Lightning rolled onto her side so that she was facing him. Her face was pale and she was breathing hard from the exertion of carrying him for so long when she was already worn out from fighting and lack of sleep. "Don't worry about my clothes. Just worry about yourself. Unlike you, this uniform can be replaced."_

_Hope's guilt didn't fade. "Light..." he started, pushing through his pain to move his arm enough to brush hers with his fingertips. "I'm sorry. I'm a nuisance."_

_Lightning cracked a half smile. "Stop apologizing for everything. You're not a burden. I've told you that already."_

"_But..." he protested. "You're always having to look out for me, and—"_

"_Hope," she cut him off, "I don't have to look out for you. I choose to. I'll always be looking out for you. I'll always be doing everything in my power to keep you safe."_

_Hope clenched his hands into fists. That wasn't what he wanted to hear. Couldn't she see that he didn't want to just be protected by her? "But, Light..."_

_A warm hand closed over his fist, silencing him. "Go to sleep, Hope. Healing you tomorrow won't do any good if you're too tired to keep moving."_

_As much as he wanted to protest, to tell her how he really felt, Hope clamped his mouth shut and obeyed. Words were useless anyway. He would need to prove to Lightning through action__s__ that he could stand on his own; that he didn't want her to see him only as a child that needed her protection._

Hope opened his eyes and pushed himself up from the ground with a groan of pain. He had to keep going. He'd been stopping to rest far too frequently. At this rate, he would be found and dragged back to God knows where to be propositioned by Captain Suit n' Shades and his gaggle of gunslinging religious nuts. They had already nearly caught him once when he'd stumbled upon an unpaved mountain road. He'd just barely been able to duck out of sight behind some bushes as a vehicle bearing the same winged serpent symbol he recalled seeing in pin form upon the organization's leader's breast drove past.

If only they hadn't confiscated his phone, he lamented. If he could just contact his friends, they'd be able to locate him and then rescue him from these seemingly endless woods. He was sure they'd noticed his absence by now. Certainly Lightning at the very least would've— _No,_ Hope thought, shaking his head. _She has her own life now. She's not going to come running every time you get yourself into trouble anymore._

The new world was meant to be a new start for all of them. It was supposed to be a place where they could live out the lives they were denied in the old world without worry. Was peace too much to ask for after everything they'd done? Hadn't they earned it?

Hope resumed walking again, though he had to pause every so often to push branches out of his way and step over bushes. His clothing was covered in needles and sticky sap from the trees and his body ached from the cold and from his bullet wound. This was not how he'd envisioned spending his weekend.

_Right, because you had so many plans,_ his brain taunted him. Had he the breath for it, Hope would've sighed at his own mind's helpful reminder that, kidnapped and lost in the mountains or not, the new world wasn't exactly living up to its promises. What would he be doing if he weren't here right now? Working late alone in the lab? Or would he be working late alone in his apartment. _Living the dream, Hope._

While everyone else was busy living the lives they'd always dreamed of, somehow he had looped back around to fill the same tired role that he had in the old world; endless hours of researching and planning and building to keep his mind off realities that might destroy him if he let them take hold in his mind.

Hope's sagging eyelids opened fully when the ground beneath his feet abruptly transitioned from lumpy earth into hard concrete. He blinked and looked around, trying to make out his surrounding in the dark. The moonlight dimly illuminated a burnt out lamppost and a bench, and a little further, a ledge, beyond which Hope could infer lie train tracks. Somehow he had chanced upon a train platform. An old one, by the looks of things.

A station, whether it was still in operation or not, could only mean that civilization was near.

Hope cast his gaze around the abandoned platform, looking for anything that could be of use to him, and his eyes fell upon a nondescript black box; not anything that would normally register in an average person's mind in this day and age, but to Hope it was a like shining beacon in a terrible storm. A smile split his worn features and he burst into a jog, his long legs carrying him to the payphone in no time at all. He picked up the receiver and nearly cried in relief when his ears were assaulted by the old, obnoxious shrill of a dial tone. He thanked his lucky stars once again that his captors hadn't been interested in his wallet.

With barely a thought, he inserted whatever change he could find into the machine and dialed the first number that entered his mind; a number he knew better than his own. He held his breath as ringing played through the speaker and he counted the chimes in his head. _Three, four, five..._ Just as he started to think his call was going to be picked up by the answering machine, he heard a click and a tired voice answer, "Lightning Farron speaking."

Hope nearly dropped the phone in his relief. "Light," he exhaled, letting his tired legs fold until he was sitting on the concrete.

Lightning's voice immediately switched from tired to urgent. "Hope!" she called back through the receiver. "Where on earth have you been? Did something happen? Do you have any idea how worried everyone is about you?" Her voice crackled over the speaker and it was honestly the most beautiful sound Hope had ever heard.

"Listen, Light, I got into a bit of trouble and I could really use some help," he said, smiling into the piece of plastic that was his lifeline at the moment. As much as he hated the thought of having to be saved by Lightning yet again, right now he wanted nothing more in the world than to see her face. That would do wonders for his crappy weekend.

"Of course!" she responded, and he could hear the determination in her voice. "Where are you?"

"Somewhere in the mountains," he replied. "At an old, possibly retired train station called..." he cast his gaze around looking for a sign or anything that would give him a name. His eyes found a laminated timetable sheet still hanging near the phone box and he squinted at it, trying to read the faded words in the dark. "Horton," he read. "Horton Station."

Lightning sounded equal parts stressed and relieved as she said, "Right. Just stay there, okay? I'm going to come find you."

"Sure. But Light, there's something you need to—" He was going to warn her about his pursuers, but he didn't get the chance, as right at that moment a bullet shrieked past his head and embedded itself into the phone box, cutting off the call. "Shit!" he swore, scrambling to his feet and looking around for the gunman.

Movement caught his eye from the tree line and Hope deftly pulled out his stolen pistol and fired at the shadow. Guns were never his forte, but a thousand years of experience with ranged weapons had honed his aim and reflexes, and Hope wasn't surprised when a pained grunt and a thud followed his shot. _Five people. Sorry__ about this__, Caius._

The shooter wasn't alone, unfortunately, as Hope learned when two more suited figures stepped out of the shadows, both wearing glinting serpent pins and holding rifles. Hope swallowed and trained his gun on them, slowly backing away. Two against one wasn't good. _Easy, Hope. They won't shoot to kill,_ he reminded himself.

As much as he was loathe to cut short more lives today, Hope knew he wouldn't stand a chance unless he took them out. They clearly recognized his skill as a marksman, as they were hesitating; likely concluding that if one of them fired, they may not make it out alive. Hope banked on that as he carefully changed the trajectory of his weapon, a plan forming in his head.

A shot cracked through the air, catching Hope completely off guard. One of the men had defied his expectations and fired. Pain blossomed in his chest and he dropped to his knees, his whole system going into shock. Slowly, he lowered his head to look down at his chest. A tranquilizer dart stuck out through his shirt, the tip firmly embedded in his flesh. Coming to his senses, he sprung into action, ripping out the dart and whipping his right hand back up to fire two shots at the men, cleanly felling both in a split second. Unfortunately for him, this tranquilizer was far stronger than the one they had administered before and spots were already clouding the edges of his vision. Hope didn't even have time to curse before his sight blacked out and he fell to the pavement, unconscious.

oO0Oo

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><p>End, chapter one! I expect each of these chapters will be around 2000 to 3000 words. A little shorter than normal for my chaptered fics, but about right for the flow of the story.<p>

If you have time, please drop a comment telling me what you think! I really appreciate any feedback I can get, as this fandom isn't particularly large. (also, I just like talking to other ffxiii fans.)

Hope you enjoyed, and I'll see you in the next chapter!


	3. 2: Out of the Fire

.

Choose for Happiness

_But for what does a man need God? _

Chapter 2: Out of the fire

"Snow, stop the car," Lightning commanded as they pulled up to the station her phone's GPS identified as Horton. She didn't even wait for the large man to fully comply before abandoning the vehicle and racing over to the platform, flashlight in hand. It had taken roughly forty minutes to reach the station from Serah and Snow's place and Lightning could only hope that they'd made it in time.

She flashed her light across the platform and her pulse quickened at what she saw. Two large, bloody stains on the cement, a busted up phone, and no Hope in sight. She looked at the blood and swallowed thickly. _Please don't be his,_ she prayed silently.

Snow joined her a moment later, stopping short as he took in the scene. "Oooh boy," he remarked in a low voice.

Lightning ignored him and studied the scene, looking for any clues as to where Hope might have gone. The station was quiet and empty, save for them. There were no noises to indicate that anyone else was still in the area. She flashed her light around regardless, just in case someone was hiding out of sight, but she caught no whisper of movement beyond the gentle rustling of tree branches.

Silently cursing, she pointed her light back at the carnage on the platform, and that's when her sharp eyes caught several dark blotches leading away from the main puddles. "Look there!" she said sharply to Snow before hurrying over to get a better look.

"Seems whoever—or whatever—it was left us a trail," Snow observed, pointing his own light in the direction the droplets led.

"Great. Let's go," Lightning said, already following the droplets. She clenched her jaw as she swiftly moved along the trail. It seemed her earlier concern had been warranted after all. Hope was clearly being targeted by someone, although toward what end she hadn't the foggiest.

The blood path became harder to follow once they entered the woods, but Lightning didn't falter. Hope was depending on her, and she'd be damned if she let him down. She picked up her pace, darting over the underbrush as she tracked her target with the singleminded determination of a bloodhound. Snow followed close behind, jaw set and eyes trained straight ahead. Lightning knew that Hope had become like a brother to him, and nobody got between Snow and his family.

Roughly ten minutes into their chase, Lightning's trained ears picked up the sound of voices from up ahead. Not wasting any time, she reached for her standard issue glock and broke into a sprint right for the voices. "Oi!" she called out as three men wearing black suits came into view. All three of them, she noticed, were sporting an extra body. "I'm Sergeant-major Lightning Farron of the YPD! Stop where you are and put your hands in the air!"

Instead of doing as commanded, the men swore and broke into a run. _Oh no you don't!_ Lightning raised her gun.

A hand landed on her shoulder, stopping her. "Don't worry, Sis. I got this," Snow called as he sprinted past her, a large grin on his face.

True to his word, Snow charged in like a wrecking ball, merrily sending each of the three men flying with his large fists. In a matter of mere seconds, the men, along with their human luggage, were brought down, leaving the ground littered with bodies. Lightning's gaze zoned in on a head of moonlight colored hair among the carnage and she rushed over.

"Hope!" she cried as she lifted the unconscious man's shoulders, taking in his pale face and clammy skin. "Hope!" she called again, slapping his cheek several times in quick succession. "Come on, wake up! Hey!"

Hope remained unresponsive, his head falling back and lolling to the side limply.

"Dammit!" Lightning swore. Only then did she notice his bloodied shoulder and her own blood ran cold. "Snow!" she cried, grabbing the blond man's attention. "Hope is injured! We've gotta get him outta here!"

"On it!" the big man called, abandoning the other men who were now in various stages of picking themselves up and fleeing the scene. Snow jogged over to her and immediately scooped Hope up in his arms with a grunt. "Damn! This was a lot easier back when you were a kid, kid," he told Hope's unconscious form. Then, to Lightning, he asked, "What about the other guys?"

"Forget about them. I'm more concerned about Hope," she said, turning back the way they had come. "He needs a doctor, _now_. Let's go!"

Not wasting any more time, the two of them hurried back to the station, both praying that their friend would be alright.

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><p>Lightning called Serah as Snow drove them out of the wilderness and toward the nearest hospital. When they arrived, Hope was immediately taken to intensive care and Lightning and Snow were left in the waiting room, much to both their frustration.<p>

The waiting room was a large, spacious area full of chairs and magazines, but no other people save for the two of them. In the wee hours of the morning, the hospital was even creepier than it probably was during its normal hours of operation. Lightning had never liked hospitals. They brought back memories of the weeks she'd spent watching her mother slowly die of illness. Back then, she'd practically lived in hospitals; her and Serah. She always thought maybe that was what caused Serah to give up her dream of becoming a nurse.

Beside her, Snow stretched with a loud groan and then fell into one of the chairs. "First it's go, go, go! And now it's wait, wait, wait," he complained, stretching out his legs.

"That's how hospitals are," she informed him, settling her back against the wall and crossing her arms over her chest.

Lightning thought they might lapse into silence after that, but she forgot who her company was. "Well," Snow said with the air of someone about to make a big announcement. "That sure didn't take long."

"What didn't?" she asked, not picking up on his meaning.

Snow let out a short chuckle. "I mean we've only been in this world for what, a year? And trouble has already found us again."

Lightning sighed. "Looks that way," she agreed. Perhaps it was inevitable. Adversity clung to their group like Snow to the word 'hero'. Whatever had lead her to think that would change just because they were in a new world?

"So," the big man said, folding his hands over his stomach, "Who do you suppose those guys were? The ones trying to carry Hope off. Something tells me they weren't our friendly neighborhood watch."

"That's for damn sure," Lightning agreed, tightening her fingers around her upper arm. "I'm guessing they're reason Hope's been missing for two days."

Snow exhaled and rubbed the back of his neck with a serious expression. "So you think those people kidnapped him?" he asked, moving his hand to thread his fingers through his hair. "Makes sense. Except…why? I mean, why Hope?"

Lightning narrowed her eyes and glared down at the tiled floor, her mind buzzing from that exact question. "I don't know," she admitted. She looked up at Snow then, and in a low, menacing voice added, "But I'm going to find out."

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><p>It was another twenty minutes before the doctor came in to inform them of Hope's condition.<p>

The doctor was a surprisingly youthful looking man with light brown hair and a serious face. He pulled a ballpoint pen from the breast pocket of his white coat and used it to make a few marks on his clipboard before looking up at them. "I'm assuming you're family or friends of Mr. Hope Estheim," he stated. There was nobody else they could be, after all.

"Friends, yes," Lightning confirmed, watching the doctor levelly.

The man nodded and made another mark on his clipboard. "My name is Dr. Paul Laurent. I've been placed in charge of Mr. Estheim's care for the duration of his stay here at Valley Cross Hospital."

Lightning and Snow both nodded.

"Let's see," Dr. Laurent continued, looking down at his papers. "Mr. Estheim was brought in with a gunshot wound to his collarbone as well as trauma to the head and multiple light abrasions on his arms and legs, likely from running through a heavily wooded area…" he trailed off as he flipped to the next page. "His condition is currently stable, however he appears to have suffered an allergic reaction to an as of yet unidentified tranquilizer…administered via a dart, as indicated by a puncture wound on his chest."

"Allergic reaction?" Lightning repeated. "What do you mean?"

The doctor let out a short sigh and lifted his eyes to meet hers. "It means his body reacted negatively to one or more of the chemicals in that dart. Your friend is currently in a coma."

Lightning's jaw went slack and next to her Snow cursed.

"Don't worry," Dr. Laurent assured them quickly. "We expect him to awaken within the next day or so. There's no cause for alarm at this point."

Lightning exhaled in relief. For a single, horrifying second she thought that Hope wasn't ever going to wake up again and her heart had nearly dropped out of her chest.

"But it's a very good thing that the two of you got him here when you did," the doctor continued. "Had you been much later, Mr. Estheim's prognosis would not have been so good." The man seemed to look right at Lightning when he said this, and the certainty of his statement struck her like a hammer. It wasn't 'might not have been so good', it was 'would not'. As in Hope's life had been in serious danger tonight, and nobody had known. If she and Snow had stopped to chase those men, would Hope still be with them now? How close had they come to tragedy?

Lightning's anger at whomever had taken Hope exploded into outright fury. How dare they lay a hand on Hope. How dare they drug him with weird medications! What if he'd died? What if he'd fallen into a coma and never woken up? How would she live with herself?

How would she live without him?

Lightning's fists clenched hard enough to make her bleed, had she not been wearing gloves. She was going to find whoever did this and she was going to make them pay. They were going to wish they'd never even heard the name Hope Estheim.

"Thank you for your trouble, Doc," Snow said next to her. "We really appreciate it. If something had happened to that kid…well, I'm just really glad it didn't."

"Of course," Dr. Laurent said with a nod. "We'll continue to monitor him overnight. Rest assured that if anything should happen, not that I'm expecting it to, but if something does, we'll know." He placed his clipboard under his arm then and gestured at the reception desk. "Please see our receptionist, Amélie, for details concerning visiting hours and, later, discharge protocol."

Lightning nodded. "Thank you, Doctor. Truly."

Dr. Laurent's expression softened and he bowed his head slightly. "We'll take care of him. I don't know what happened exactly, but if you need to contact the police, there's a phone through that door." He gestured across the room to a blue door bearing the words 'Call Area'.

Snow let out an amused chuckle and Lightning cracked a smile. "Thanks, but I am the police."

Doctor Laurent raised his eyebrows. "I see." He seemed to consider something for a moment and then he asked, "Then would Mr. Estheim happen to be a fellow officer?"

Lightning's smile fell from her face. "No," she answered. "He's just a guy who draws the short straw a little more often than most."

* * *

><p>After the two of them left the hospital, Lightning got straight on the phone to report Hope's case to the YPD. She spent the next hour describing what few details she knew about his kidnapping to several different people within the branch. It was nearly three o'clock in the morning by the time she finished, and by then her adrenaline from the incident had long since worn off. She was almost temped to take the next day off work, except that work was exactly the place she needed to be to follow up on Hope's kidnapping. Like hell was she giving the case over to some greenhorn just so she could get a few extra hours' rest.<p>

So it was that the next morning she marched into the Yaschas City Police headquarters the same as any other day, but with a pair of fresh bags under her eyes and fiery determination on her face.

"Sergeant-major Farron," her boss greeted as she walked through the door. "Good morning. You look a tad dark under the eyes today. Rough night, I heard."

Lightning saluted respectfully. "Yes, Captain. I'm assuming the details of last night's incident were relayed to you already."

"They were," Captain Amodar confirmed. "I was told you found your friend."

"Yes, sir," she answered, still in her salute.

Amodar smiled warmly. "That's excellent news. I know how much Hope Estheim's disappearance was weighing on you." He leaned forward then and his face adopted a scolding expression. "But Farron, you really should have reported the call and waited for reinforcements before going in. You know that what you did is a violation of protocol."

Lightning's face tightened. "Sir, there was no time to wait for backup. If I'd spared even a moment, Hope might be dead right now."

Amodar leaned back in his seat and nodded. "Yes, I heard about his condition in the report." The captain looked around briefly as if making sure nobody was paying attention to them and then beckoned her forward. When she was within range, he leaned toward her and said lowly, "I'm not saying what you did wasn't the best course of action given the situation—because certainly it was—but try not to step out of line too often, yes? You're a pretty hot topic around here and you don't want any marks on your record."

Lightning nodded respectfully. "Yes, sir."

Amodar laughed and leaned back again. "You know, you don't have to be so formal," he said, his tone laced with amusement. "We're not in the military."

Lightning faltered slightly and then lowered her hand. "Sorry, sir," she apologized with a small smile. "Old habits die hard."

"Hm?" the captain questioned, looking confused.

She shook her head. "Nothing. Just talking to myself."

There was a moment of silence between them after that, which Lightning broke when she said, "Sir, if I may, I have a request."

"What's that, sergeant?" Amodar asked. Suddenly there was a twinkle in his eye, as if he somehow knew what she was about to ask.

In her most professional tone, Lightning said, "I'd like to be put in charge of Hope Estheim's case." Really, there was hardly any need to ask. Amodar already knew how important this case was to her, and there was no reason why she shouldn't be the one to lead it, but just in case... No point in risking it.

Amodar chuckled. "Ah, yes, I knew you'd ask me that."

Lightning smiled at his response. "Then do I assume correctly that I have your consent?"

To her confusion, the large Capitaine de Police's expression sobered slightly. "Normally, yes," he said, watching her steadily. "But I'm afraid this time I must decline."

Amodar's response hit Lightning like a slap in the face. He was...declining her request? She examined his face, but the big man showed no sign that he was joking with her. "Sir?" she questioned, her heart feeling like it was sinking in her chest.

"Ah, please don't misunderstand," he said quickly, waving a hand in front of him. "I'm not meaning to take this from you, Farron. You see, the paperwork for your commandment training went through last night. I'm not pulling you from the case—you can still be involved—but I'll have to place someone else in charge while you undergo training here at headquarters."

Lightning's eyes widened. "Sir! You don't mean..."

"I do, Farron," he said, his smile returning. "Congratulations. You're being promoted."

If Lightning were any less of a soldier, she might have fallen out of stance in surprise. She was being promoted to lieutenant? Already? But she hadn't worked nearly long enough to be considered for that kind of promotion.

Amodar must have seen the surprise on her face, because he said, "You've earned it. You're more skilled and more disciplined than any other officer I've ever met, and I've been doing this for a _long_ time. I don't know how you do it, Farron, but it's like you have a thousand years' experience over everyone else in the force."

At these words, Lightning cracked a smile. "Five-hundred and three years and thirteen days to be exact," she told him.

Amodar blinked up at her from his chair uncomprehendingly for a moment and then a huge grin split his face. "Well, isn't this a surprise! The all-business Sergeant Farron has a sense of humor after all."

Lightning let out a short chuckle. "Don't go telling anyone," she joked.

Amodar shifted in his chair and pulled a slip of paper from the pile on his desk. "Farron," he said in a slightly more serious tone. "I'm sorry that this promotion happened to fall during such a stressful time for you. I can't change the scheduled training dates, but I can assure you that you'll be informed immediately about anything our officers find during their investigation." He held out the slip of paper and Lightning took it curiously. It was statement of permission for police admittance. "That's for you," he continued. "Take it with you when you go to the hospital. I want you to question the victim when he wakes up." The good captain embellished his instructions with a wink.

Lightning clutched the paper tightly and gave Amodar her most crisp salute. "Yes, sir!" More softly, she added, "Thank you, Captain Amodar."

Amodar waved her off. "He'll be more open with you anyway. I'd be remiss in my judgement if I sent anyone else."

Lightning gave her commanding officer a sincere smile. Amodar had always looked out for her; ever since she was first placed under his command in the Guardian Corps at the tender age of eighteen. That was lifetimes ago now, but the large, easy-going man hadn't changed a bit. For her to be placed under his care once again in the new world, surely the stars were looking out for her.

Just before turning to go, Lightning posed one last question to the captain. "If you don't mind me asking, sir, who will be put in charge of Hope's case?"

Amodar surprised her when he let out a troubled sounding sigh at her question. "Ah, about that..." he said, raising a beefy hand to rub the back of his neck. "I'm afraid the only officer not currently occupied with another case is Sergeant-major Guillory."

Lightning stiffened at the name. Amodar saw this and added, "I know you're not especially fond of him, but he's a good, reliable officer, and I know he'll handle your friend's case with the utmost professionalism."

Lightning nodded stiffly and turned to the door. "I won't let my personal feelings interfere with our cooperation on this case, I assure you."

oO0Oo

* * *

><p>Phew! Extra long chapter for you this time. Hope is back with his friends now, but his kidnappers are still on the loose. Oh calamity.<p>

Once again, thank you for reading, and please! Leave a comment! I get lonely. I think I feel a cold wind blowing. I'd be ever so appreciative for the warmth of another human out here in this brisk tundra that is the LR fanfiction section.

Have a lovely day and I'll see you next chapter!


	4. 3: The Cruelty of God

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Choose for Happiness

_Somehow we failed our only task._

Chapter 3: The cruelty of God

Lightning arrived at the hospital with a troubled mind. Not only was she unable to lead Hope's case due to commandment training, but the officer placed in charge in her stead was Lucas Guillory, a man she held little love for. True, the sergeant-major was a capable officer; it wasn't his skill she condemned him for. It was his personality.

Ever since the first case they'd worked on together, Lucas—as he insisted she call him—made no secret of his concupiscent designs for her. He was the kind of man who brazenly pursued women, and Lightning had received the misfortune of being selected as the object of his desire. Lucas was unashamed, but worse than that, he was smart. He kept his flirtation in the workplace tame enough to not be reportable as sexual harassment and he was a master of subtlety. He knew just how to play the game, and were she not so disgusted by him, Lightning might actually respect him for it.

Having Guillory in charge of the investigation meant that she was going to have to work with him more closely than normal, and honestly, Lightning didn't want to deal with the man right now. Hope could still very well be in danger. She didn't have time for games.

As a nurse led her to the room where Hope was being treated, Lightning's mind returned once again to his captors. The same question kept swirling around in her head. Why Hope? She wished her longtime friend and once charge would wake up so she could ask him. She couldn't imagine Hope voluntarily getting involved with shady people. Perhaps he'd published something that somebody didn't like? But it wasn't like he was researching anything of a sensitive nature. _That I know of,_ the thought crept unbidden into her mind.

What exactly was Hope researching right now? Now that she was thinking about it, the realization that she didn't actually know what he was working on came as a surprise to her. She _always_ knew. Hope used to discuss his projects with her frequently. When had that stopped, exactly? Just how long had this distance between them been growing? The fact that she hadn't noticed until now disturbed her.

The nurse opened the door and Lightning walked straight to the bed where Hope lay sleeping. _Not sleeping, comatose,_ she reminded herself. Guilt washed over her again as she gazed at his unconscious form. Hope was taken because she hadn't been there to protect him. Because she hadn't been paying enough attention.

Lightning hated seeing him like this, his pale hair and skin even paler against the sterile sheets of the hospital bed. His shoulder was bandaged where the bullet had pierced him and an IV was attached to his arm to hydrate him while he slept. According to the nurse, he was recovering smoothly. There were no complications during the night and the doctor expected him to awaken soon. Any time, in fact. Hell or high water, Lightning wouldn't leave his side until he did.

* * *

><p>Lightning waited vigilantly by Hope's bedside all morning, only leaving once to use the restroom. Hope slept on, entirely unresponsive to anything she or the nurses did or said to him. It was disconcerting to see him so still. Hope had always been a fidgeter; the kind of boy whose active mind manifested itself through movement. Lightning used to watch him during moments of rest as he'd shift his weight from one leg to the other, cross and uncross his arms, fiddle with the yellow piece of cloth he always wore around his left wrist... Even when sleeping, he was in motion; twitching; rolling over; mumbling things. To see him lying still as death made her uncomfortable in its wrongness.<p>

Serah joined her at the hospital as the clock neared noon. The younger Farron had been relieved when Lightning told her the night before that Hope had been found and was being brought home, but the news of his condition had hit her hard. She and Hope had become quite close during their time in the new world, and Serah had always been the owner of a caring heart. When Lightning had called her about her assignment on the way from the police station, Serah promised that she would take an extended lunch break to come visit them at the hospital.

A nurse brought an extra chair and Serah joined her by Hope's bed. The two of them talked at length, Lightning detailing the events of the previous night and Serah asking questions. Serah was just as baffled as Lightning about Hope's apparent kidnapping. "It just doesn't make sense," she said, putting a finger to her lips contemplatively. "Hope is one of the nicest guys I've ever met. Why would anyone want to hurt him?"

Lightning crossed her arms and scoffed. "I don't think hurting him is what they're after. My bet is it's information they want."

Hope was one of the most brilliant minds of any age. If someone were to want to kidnap him, surely it would be for...

Lightning's eyes widened and she uncrossed her arms, a sudden thought striking her. "They want him to do something for them," she announced, the pieces coming together in her mind. "There was no ransom issued and Hope isn't the type to get on the wrong side of the wrong people, which can only mean that they seek to use him for something." How had she been so blind? In all her guessing, she'd somehow missed the obvious answer.

Understanding lit in Serah's eyes and she nodded. "Of course!" She looked back at Hope and smiled softly. "I always forget what an important person he is."

Lightning couldn't help but breathe a short chuckle at her sister's comment. "He is pretty unremarkable most of the time."

Serah gasped and swatted her big sister playfully. "Sis, that's mean!"

Lightning turned away from her sister with a smile and looked at Hope fondly. To be honest, there was nothing unremarkable about the young man lying next to her. He was absurdly brilliant, amazingly talented at too many things, and even his looks were striking; pale skin, moonlight colored hair, jade eyes... Hell, even his personality was high level. It was no wonder he'd been so successful in the old world and was becoming the same in this one. "But we still don't know what they wanted from him," she mused aloud.

Serah "hmm"ed soberly and turned back to Hope. She watched him quietly for several moments, then said, "It's strange seeing him like this. He's always been so strong." She frowned and looked up at Lighting. "Hospital beds don't suit him. He should be the one in the white coat."

Lightning gave her sister a smile. "He always was our best healer."

Serah smiled as well, but it fell short of her eyes. "You know..." she started, then trailed off, looking back at Hope instead of her. She was silent for a brief moment, and to Lightning it appeared that she was trying to decide whether or not to continue what she'd been about to say. The older Farron wondered what was going through her sister's mind all of a sudden. Deciding to continue, Serah looked back at her and admitted, "Sometimes I'm a little envious of you guys." She folded her hands in her lap and smiled down at them. "You all had this grand adventure together while I slept the days away in crystal. To be honest, I still feel like a bit of an outsider sometimes."

Serah's confession didn't come as a complete surprise to Lightning. She'd suspected before that her sister had felt this way upon occasion. "You were never far from anyone's thoughts," she assured her. She leaned forward and lifted Serah's chin, giving her a smile. "Everything we did was for you, after all." With a smirk, she added, "Hope knew your name before he knew mine."

Serah let out a short giggle at that. "Snow's doing, I'm sure." She looked back at Hope and her expression turned pensive. "What was Hope like back then?" she questioned suddenly, surprising Lightning. "I only knew him briefly before he moved away after the fall. You were never that fond of kids, so I always kind of wondered."

Lightning crossed her legs and sat back in her chair. She tilted her head back as she considered Serah's question. Honestly she hadn't thought bout Hope back then in a very long time. "He was young, scared, weak...angry," she started, picturing those days in her mind. "Very angry. His world was falling apart and he needed an outlet." She paused to scoff. "But he was a pampered rich kid from the suburbs. He didn't have any strength, he couldn't fight. He was a mess of misdirected rage and grief." She looked at Hope's sleeping face fondly. "He had will, though. He told me he wanted to be strong more than anything."

"I think I get it," Serah said, and Lightning frowned at her in confusion. The younger woman gave her a knowing look. "He was exactly like you were after mom died."

Lightning blinked at her sister and then turned her head and scoffed. "Please. I was never that whiny."

Serah giggled and looked back at Hope. "Whiny," she repeated. "Did you hear that, Hope? Sis is badmouthing you while you sleep!"

Despite knowing he was comatose, both women couldn't help the small pang of disappointment they felt when Hope didn't stir.

Serah reached out a hand and laid her palm on top of the blanket covering Hope's chest. Without looking up, she said, "Your description doesn't fit him at all. The Hope I know is strong and level-headed." She moved her hand to his head and brushed his bangs aside with the backs of her fingers. "He's brilliant and kind," she continued. "But you know, I've always thought he seemed sad."

Lightning frowned. "Sad?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Like he has the world on his shoulders. Ever since I met him."

Lightning said nothing and Serah continued. "He worked so hard. When I was traveling with Noel, I saw his tireless dedication to humanity and the world. He was like a father providing for his children. He made sure everyone was happy and taken care of and safe. I think he gave up a lot of his own happiness to do that." She brushed his hair back again and then laid her hand on his cheek. "Sometimes I wonder if he was able to regain any happiness in this world."

Lightning's mind returned once again to Hope's behavior of late. When she'd met him for the first time in this world, he'd been happy. She was sure of it. He'd never smiled so big as he did that day. She remembered clearly how he'd wrapped his arms around her, for once having to bend down to do so, and told her that he'd been searching for her for so long and how relieved he was that everyone made it to the new world safely and hownobody would ever be forced to leave ever again. "We'll be together," he'd said with light in his eyes, radiating such joy, like someone had taken the world from his shoulders and handed it to him. Without a doubt, he'd been happy then.

But when she thought of Hope lately—how reclusive he'd been, how they rarely talked anymore, how hardly any of them saw him outside his lab or apartment, how distant he acted when he was with them... _He's not happy,_ she realized. The notion blindsided her in its obviousness. At some point that spark of light had left his eyes, and she had no idea when it had happened or why. _Some friend I am,_ she thought, guilt bubbling up in her chest.

A knock at the door drew both her and Serah's attention. A small, slender, brunette woman stepped into the room carrying a cheerful bouquet. She smiled when she saw them. "Serah, Lightning," she greeted, walking over to them. "I see you beat me."

Serah returned the woman's smile. "Melan," she greeting back. Her eyes fell on the bouquet and her face lit up. "Those flowers are beautiful! Hope sure is lucky to have such a caring assistant."

Lightning watched the exchange wordlessly, as she often did when faced with things like bouquets and well wishes and other such social niceties. That was her sister's area of expertise.

Melan had been Hope's assistant for about four months now. She was a friendly, attractive woman whose praises Hope sang often. Lightning knew the two of them spent a great deal of time together; mostly at work, but they'd been known to do things outside the lab as well. Logically, if something was going on with Hope, Melan would be the person to ask about it. However, Lightning was hesitant. She couldn't adequately explain why, but she preferred not to associate too much with Melan. Something about the woman's closeness with Hope made her uncomfortable. She felt like an intruder, and she didn't like that feeling. It was for this reason that she kept her interaction with Melan to only the shortest exchanges necessary to satisfy social politeness.

There was also the fact that while Hope was spending less and less time with them, he'd been spending more and more time with Melan. This perturbed Lightning more than she cared to admit. Before, Hope had always leaned on her. He'd gone to her with his troubles, his joy, his...well, everything. She and Hope had never stopped being partners. Their bond—their friendship—had always been strong, and she'd assumed it always would be. But now she could see herself being replaced by this perky, friendly, attractive girl who could speak to Hope in his own language; all the technical jargon and big words that scholars used and Lightning didn't because she'd never gone to college and the only jargon she knew was the military variety. Hope had never been much of a soldier and she had never been much of a scholar and really, what was keeping two such entirely different people together anyway?

Lightning looked down at Hope's sleeping face and felt a tug in her chest. He wasn't a lost little boy anymore. He was a grown man and he no longer needed her. Perhaps it was time for her to move on, too.

"It's about lunch time," Melan's voice pulled her from her thoughts. "Have you two eaten yet? I can watch Hope if you want to get some food from the cafe downstairs," she offered.

Lightning was about to protest that she'd rather not leave Hope and she wasn't all that hungry anyway, but Serah beat her. "That's a great idea," the lavender eyed Farron announced. She turned to Lightning. "You've been sitting here all morning. A little break would be good."

Never an adept at arguing with her sister, Lightning agreed and stood with a sigh. Perhaps a little lunch wasn't a terrible idea. Hope would still be here when she returned No use starving herself.

Serah gave Melan a little wave as they left. "Make sure he doesn't go anywhere," she instructed with a wink as the door closed behind them, and the two sisters set off for the elevator.

* * *

><p><em>It was strange being with Lightning again after so many years. So many <em>centuries_. He thought he'd have so much to say to her. He'd been anticipating the day he'd finally meet her again for ages, hadn't he? He remember dreaming of her every night for countless days. He recalled lifetimes spent trying to bring her back. But now she was here and he felt nothing._

_He wasn't glad. He wasn't angry. He wasn't relieved. He wasn't anything._

_He remembered everything. Their adventures together; their friendship; that they were partners; that a man named Hope Estheim once loved her fiercely. But these memories didn't feel like his. They meant nothing to him. They were a past that gave context to his existence, and nothing more._

_He looked at the couch where the savior lay sleeping. As usual, he waited to feel something. He didn't._

_The savior didn't need sleep. God had removed that weakness from both of them. But she still did it. She was defiant. She had always been that way. His memories told him that he had admired that about her._

_He stood from his chair and walked over to the resting woman. Perhaps if he studied her up close, the feelings would come. He stood over her and watched her breathe evenly. He watched her chest rise and fall and her eyelids twitch slightly from dreams—did she still dream? He watched for several seconds but still he felt nothing._

_He wanted to feel something. Practically his whole life he'd been telling himself that everything would be okay once Lightning came back. He should be happy right now. No, he should be ecstatic. It seemed wrong to not feel anything at all. Logically, he understood that his emotions had been taken from him, so trying was an exercise in futility, but at the same time, something inside him didn't want to give up. His memories told him that getting Lightning back was something he'd lived for. He couldn't let it mean nothing at the very end. The man named Hope Estheim wouldn't let things end like this, right?_

_He knelt down next to the couch and gently brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. "I love you," he said, testing the words on his tongue. They elicited no sudden spark of emotion. No great revelation. They were just words lost on a sleeping person and nothing changed._

_A frown tugged at his mouth. He didn't know where this determination came from, but he wouldn't give up yet. He leaned over the couch, balancing his weight on his hands and hovered over Lightning for a short moment. He wet his lips with his tongue and then lowered his head and very gently pressed his lips to hers. He closed his eyes and lingered there, feeling her warm soft lips on his, and listened to the sound of his own heart beating in his chest. He breathed in her light, clean scent; a scent that conjured up memories of her arms around him in Palumpolum and being carried, wounded and bleeding, on her back across the vast plains of Gran Pulse._

_And he felt nothing._

_It was in that moment that Hope truly understood the cruelty of God._

oO0Oo

* * *

><p>Sorry, guys. This chapter took a little longer than expected, but I was busier than usual these past weeks. A lot of my writing time was sacrificed. I hope this chapter was worth the wait.<p>

Tell me what you thought! I'll be here sipping a strawberry daiquiri and waiting. Myess.


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